


smiley

by sakurahaiku



Category: ONEWE (Band)
Genre: And angsty, Gimyeong is just a side, M/M, Soulmate AU, because I have a brand to retain, no beta we die like men, somehow this is the most intimate thing I have ever written, this is still hurt/comfort, this was Too Much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:07:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23572843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sakurahaiku/pseuds/sakurahaiku
Summary: Why is there only one way love is intended to happen?(He’s read all the stories about soulmates that he could ever find. They were all heartbreaking to him. Plato’s was the worst of all; that you were incomplete until you found your other half. He imagines himself as half a heart wandering the Earth. A pariah to society. Not able to acclimate to the world no matter how he tried.)
Relationships: Jin Yonghoon/Kang Hyungu | Kanghyun
Comments: 12
Kudos: 76





	smiley

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired.
> 
> Please enjoy.

Hyungu has never found a single mark on his body. No unexplained bruises, no notes-to-self, not even the misplaced drip of a wayward pen. He came to terms with his situation a long time ago; stopped counting every time he bumped into something just to see if he had a scratch more than he was supposed to. It was a fruitless effort. He covers his arms in long-sleeved shirts, won’t allow himself to look at his bare legs. His naked skin is nothing but a reminder that there was no one out there in the world for him.

Hyungu didn’t know if his soulmate died in childhood or in infancy. Maybe his other half died in the womb, or was a silent baby at birth, a mother’s tragedy. He used to pray that his soulmate met an unfortunate end at an unfortunately young age. As he grew older, more cynical, he began to accept that maybe his soulmate just never existed in the first place; that there were billions of people alive in the world at the same time as him, and he was the only one destined to be alone.

He’s read all the stories about soulmates that he could ever find. They were all heartbreaking to him. Plato’s was the worst of all; that you were incomplete until you found your other half. He imagines himself as half a heart wandering the Earth. A pariah to society. Not able to acclimate to the world no matter how he tried.

He used to do kendo, in his younger days. Hyungu would be covered in bruises, shades of black and blue and yellow and brown. He used to sit as a child, tracing the outlines of them. He would imagine what he would do if they were his soulmate’s. He imagines a formless, shapeless blob taking a pen and outlining the bruises, drawing smiley faces on the injured skin, writing words of comfort. None of these things ever happen, and Hyungu falls deeper and deeper into his self-contained loneliness.

He eventually gives up kendo for a guitar. His bruises are replaced with calluses on his fingers as he practices note by note, scale by scale. If, on the off-chance they exist, his soulmate notices nothing is ever said. There are no sloppily written questions, no proof of concern. Hyungu continues to live his life alone, wondering if a callus would ever grow on a soulmate’s fingers.

School is a nightmare. As he and his classmates grow older in years, the fascination behind soulmates grow. His peers draw tiny hearts and smiley faces on their skin, screaming in delight when they get a response, frantically looking around the room to see if their soulmate is mere meters from them. Hyungu pulls his sleeves down closer around his wrists. His classmates learn to leave him alone, think he’s strange for actively allowing himself to be without.

As he grows into his teenaged years, he finds himself staring at the mirror. He studies his eyes, his nose. He tries different smiles, contorting his face into something other than perpetually sad and lonely. He wonders if anyone would find him attractive. He wonders, if he had a soulmate, if they would be happy with their destined partner. He tries to imagine what his soulmate could have looked like. What began as shapeless, formless blog has turned a little more masculine. Hyungu, however, finds that he can’t find himself to care about what his soulmate looks like. He just wants someone, someone who’s his.

Harin is the new kid in class. He introduces himself as someone who loves music, he’s a drummer. He’s tall and good looking, friendly and sociable. Everyone surrounds him, eager to get to know this stranger who’s easy to smile. Hyungu does not join the hoards, happy to sit in the corner by himself. Invariably, that means Harin is the first to approach him. The other boy is undeterred by Hyungu’s mild mannerisms, quiet voice. They bond over music, and Hyungu feels himself grow lighter with each passing moment.

Harin learns quickly that he shouldn’t talk to Hyungu about soulmates, and the topic hardly ever comes up between them. Hyungu knows that Harin has one somewhere, sees Harin drawing on his arms and smiling at the responses he gets. Hyungu doesn’t ask any questions and Harin follows suit. Hyungu is happy with the friendship they’ve curated.

Along the way they’ve picked up a underclassman named Giwook. He plays the bass, and soon they have the base foundation of a band. Giwook is quiet, and Hyungu misunderstands that quietness for complacency. Giwook is sharp and intelligent, and is able to read the room with accuracy. He attempts to ask Hyungu about soulmates, but Harin quickly places a hand over the younger’s mouth.

Giwook eventually brings in his friend, a boy named Dongmyeong who’s only weeks older than Giwook. The new boy sings in a beautiful higher register, glides his fingers effortlessly across a piano. Where Hyungu and Giwook are quiet and soft-spoken, Dongmyeong is just as friendly as Harin, and soon they have a band practice full of laughter.

Dongmyeong lacks tact, however, and he’s less happy to leave Hyungu alone about soulmates. Whenever Harin turns his back, Dongmyeong is in front of him talking a million miles an hour. He asks questions that make Hyungu uncomfortable down to his very core. Asking why he’s so sure why he has no soulmate. Asking about any instance that Hyungu thought his soulmate might have tried contact. Asking if Hyungu ever tried to contact his soulmate. Hyungu answers all of Dongmyeong’s questions with disdain and indifference. It’s not like he doesn’t like the kid, he really does think Dongmyeong’s great, but he really can’t handle these questions.

Hyungu has, in fact, tried to contact his soulmate. Once at midnight he took a pen and gently drew a heart on the back of his hand. He didn’t go to sleep that night. He sat in the bathroom and stayed awake until six in the morning, just staring at his hand, waiting for some sort of sign. Maybe, he thinks, he should have done it at noon instead of midnight, but what’s done is done. He received no response.

The makeshift band grows a year older, and they recruit an older male they hear singing on the streets. His name is Yonghoon and he’s four years older than Harin and Hyungu. His voice soars with the birds, deeper than Donmgyeong’s, a perfect complement. He quickly fits into their life like a missing puzzle piece. He tickles Donmgyeong, coddles Giwook, laughs with Harin, and challenges Hyungu. Hyungu, who has always revolted against physical affection, finds himself open to Yonghoon’s easy fondness.

Yonghoon dresses with style, but his arms are always covered, legs in pants even in the summer. A mirror to Hyungu. Yonghoon picks at the skin around his fingers, writes lyrics full of melancholy. Hyungu is nearing the end of high school when he fully realizes that Yonghoon is like him; Yonghoon doesn’t have someone waiting with a pen to talk through their skin. It’s the first time Hyungu realizes that someone else could be like him; someone else could be feeling that intense feeling of loneliness.

Yonghoon knows for sure that his soulmate has died. There were marks all over his skin years ago. Bruises and pen marks, the signs of life. Yonghoon had always been careful, too afraid to initiate contact. Was content with just knowing that he had a soulmate out there. Then everything stopped, and suddenly it was too late. Yonghoon has come to terms with it, has accepted that something happened to the person he was supposed to spend forever with. He lives on for his soulmate. Hyungu wishes he was able to have that closure, but he doesn’t even have the courage to try to contact his soulmate during the day. Even though Hyungu knows in his heart that there’s no soulmate on the other end, there’s no sense of the story being over.

Yonghoon will sometimes pull up his sleeves and cover his arms with drawings and splashes of colour. He allows Dongmyeong and Giwook to fill up his arms with artwork, with Dongmyeong drawing elaborate figures and Giwook surrounding them with swirls and stars. The eldest among them likes the idea of his soulmate in heaven, every once in a while being covered with colour. Hyungu rubs his arms through his sleeves; watching the scene unfold gives him goosebumps every time. He wants someone to love him so badly.

Sometimes Dongmyeong will get paint or marker or pen on his skin, and it will show up mirrored on Giwook. They’re too young to notice, but Hyungu always see. The two of them look good together, even if they haven’t realized how beautiful their friendship is. One day they’ll wake up and realize that the person they’re destined for has been in front of them all along. Hyungu wishes something like that would happen to him. Harin smiles down at his own arms, always quiet about it, always afraid that he’ll hurt the others with his happiness.

Harin and Hyungu graduate high school, both bound for university studying music performance. It’s what they were always bound to be doing. Harin decides to continue living with his parents; a cheap, sensible option. Hyungu opts to share an apartment with Yonghoon, the older having lost his other roommate and desperately needed a new one.

Dongmyeong and Giwook fall into each other more and more, though Hyungu isn’t sure they’ve quite realized their status as soulmates. At this point Yonghoon and Harin have also noticed that spots appear on both of their arms. Yonghoon and Hyungu discuss it while moving Hyungu’s belongings into the cramped apartment. Both are willing to let the two high schoolers move at their own pace; they’ll figure it out eventually.

Hyungu’s first assignment in his song writing class is to write a song about soulmates. He knew it was going to come up sooner rather than later, but Hyungu finds himself unable to figure out the words. He ends up writing three songs, two stereotypical love songs and one that reflects his own experience as someone who’s alone. He shows all three to Yonghoon, who reads them all carefully before instructing Hyungu to hand in the one about not having one. He tells the younger that everyone in that room will be handing in a happy love song, but that the third song represents a part of the population that the world chooses to forget; that with all the beauty of true love also comes the inevitability of real loss and real loneliness.

Hyungu fails the assignment. His professor tells him he’s being purposefully dissenting, purposefully trying to ignore the purpose of the project. Hyungu leaves dejected, not wanting to explain his life circumstances to someone who doesn’t understand and never will. He makes it through the rest of the day just to make it home to cry into Yonghoon’s shoulder. The older holds him in his arms, gently rubbing circles into Hyungu’s back. He is, after all, the only one who understands.

Living with Yonghoon is nice, comforting even. They fall into a steady routine of doing dishes and cooking and taking out the trash. Yonghoon leaves lights on and Hyungu probably doesn’t shower as often as he should, but they make it work. Weekly they host the rest of the band, and they discuss gigs and busking and musical directions. Harin tries not to look at his arms, Giwook sits so close to Dongmyeong that he’s practically on the other’s lap. Months fly by in this manner.

Suddenly Dongmyeong is graduating from high school, and the whole band attends. They cheer as his name is called, and Yonghoon is so excited that he presses his hand down into Hyungu’s thigh, fingers splaying over his pants. Hyungu’s heart feels like it’s skipping a beat, feels like his temperature goes up several degrees until he’s feverous. He’s distracted by the older, and barely notices when it’s time to stand up.

Yonghoon, Harin, and Hyungu all agree to not say anything when Giwook disappears and they find him and Dongmyeong gently kissing. It’s innocent and sweet and none of them want to ruin the moment. They’ll tell the rest of them eventually, when they’re ready. For now, they’ll let them enjoy each other. Yonghoon leans down, placing his head on Hyungu’s shoulder, laughing in his ear. Hyungu’s heart races, and he finds he’s jealous of Dongmyeong and Giwook’s affection for one another.

A new semester starts, and Hyungu finds that he and Yonghoon are growing increasingly domestic. Almost all of their free time is spent at home; it’s hard to meet people or date when there’s so few people without soulmates. They write songs, Yonghoon singing along to the chords and melodies Hyungu plays. The watch movies, taking turns on who falls asleep leaning against the other.

Yonghoon’s affection is different in the confines of their apartment. When they’re in the same room it’s like he has to be pressed up against Hyungu in some way, whether it be feet brushing, legs pressed against one another, a hand on his waist. Hyungu marvels in the care. He can’t bring himself to reciprocate, not physically. He responds by allowing Yonghoon to be close to him, and the elder takes it in stride.

Yonghoon makes him feverous and Hyungu has just grown accustomed to the feeling of overheating. Yonghoon can feel the heat radiating off his body, but Hyungu refuses to wear anything else besides long sleeves and pants. His skin is still a reminder of everything he could have had but never will. Yonghoon covers up outside but inside he allows himself to be free. He walks around just in boxers, and Hyungu can see the bruises that come with every day activity that paint his body. Hyungu wishes, bitterly and selfishly, that those bruises could also dot his skin. Hyungu doesn’t look at his body, doesn’t do anything that will mark his skin.

He sometimes will look in the mirror and will study his face like he’s once again a teenager. Wonder if he’s handsome; wonder if someone could love a face like his. He can’t decide if the features he’s ended up with are attractive. It’s not like, in this world of fated love, anyone can tell him if he has a face that one could fall in love with. He asks Yonghoon if he’s handsome, and the elder grabs his face and brings it close and tells Hyungu that if his soulmate still exists out there that they would be crazy and stupid not to find him the most beautiful person in the world. More and more, when Hyungu thinks about what his perfect soulmate would look like, the form is looking and sounding more and more like Yonghoon.

He takes a philosophy class as an elective and writes an essay about not ever having a soulmate. He writes about the loneliness, and how society wants to forget that there are people in the world who will never get to know love the way it was intended. He gets a glowing grade; his professor writes next to the conclusion “Why is there only one way love is intended to happen?” Hyungu lets Yonghoon read it, and feels like he’s soaring when he’s met with Yonghoon’s bright smile.

The band still comes over once a week. Dongmyeong and GIwook are open with their love for one another, Giwook now firmly in Dongmyeong’s lap. Harin shows up with hickeys on his neck, and Hyungu’s mind races with questions he should have asked years ago. The two have been friends for years now and Hyungu, in his own selfishness, has never once asked about Harin’s soulmate. He’s older now, wiser than when they were in high school, and ashamed that he’s blocked himself from such a major part of his best friend’s life.

Harin is reluctant to answer his questions, worried about the effect that it will have on Hyungu’s mental health. It takes a while, but Hyungu manages to explain that he wants to be a part of his friend’s happiness. He smiles as Harin tells him about trust, and looking into their eyes and feeling acceptance. These are all things that Hyungu wants for himself, and he’s thrilled that Harin gets to experience it.

Giwook graduates from high school, and once again they all go. Dongmyeong holds a bouquet of flowers, Harin cheers the loudest, and Yonghoon grips Hyungu’s hand like a lifeline, whispering in the younger’s ear that their children are all grown up. They hold hands throughout the ceremony, Hyungu moving his thumb alongside the back of Yonghoon’s hand when he sobs watching Giwook. They only let go when they have to stand up and re-enter the real world once more. The four envelop Giwook in a bone-crushing group hug, and the youngest of them all laughs. The pure joy makes Hyungu want to write a symphony.

It’s the start of Hyungu and Yonghoon’s third year of living together, and they function like a married couple. When it’s just the two of them they’re drawn to one another, like each one is a moth to the other’s flame. They watch movies and Hyungu purposefully cuddles up into Yonghoon’s side, the older holding him close with an arm snaking around the younger’s waist, fingers resting on Hyungu’s stomach. They bring each other down from their anxiety, and Yonghoon will carry Hyungu into his bed when he passes out at the kitchen table working on assignments. Hyungu leaves dinner for Yonghoon when the other works late. Hyungu knows that this is no longer platonic, but is afraid of losing the other should he bring it up.

Naturally, this means Yonghoon is the one to address the tension. They’re watching some movie when Yonghoon turns to look at Hyungu. The younger looks up at Yonghoon from his place pressed to the older’s side.

“Hyungu,” Yonghoon stammers, “At this point isn’t this love between us?”

Hyungu looks into Yonghoon’s eyes, can see every colour in them. Can feel the acceptance that Harin once told him about. He thinks back to his philosophy professor, and finds that he can now say that, no, there isn’t just one way love exists in this world, in their society. He doesn’t know how to verbalize it, so he cuddles closer into Yonghoon, pressing his nose into his chest. Yonghoon laughs and Hyungu can feel it vibrate through his entire body. He feels lips brush against the top of his head, one, two, three times. It takes a few moments of adjustment to figure out the most comfortable way to sit, but Hyungu ends up falling asleep. He wakes up in Yonghoon’s arms, in Yonghoon’s bed. He brings his hand up to trace the features of Yonghoon’s face, and the older leans up into Hyungu’s touch.

They have a few weeks of bliss before Hyungu’s anxiety goes into overdrive. Yonghoon may be certain that his soulmate was dead, but Hyungu had never had anything. There was no closure. Hyungu suddenly became terrified that the moment he allowed Yonghoon to see his skin, even something as innocent as his arms, that that would be the moment that his soulmate would appear. He was too scared to tell Yonghoon his fears, but the older seems to understand, tries to massage out the knots in the younger’s shoulders.

Hyungu comes home during the summer to Yonghoon passed out asleep on the couch. It’s ridiculously hot outside, and Yonghoon is only in his boxers. Hyungu can see the sweat glisten on his body; he suddenly feels claustrophobic in his shirt and jeans. Before he can wake the other up, Hyungu goes to take a shower. Drying himself off, he allows himself to look at himself in the mirror for what feels like the first time. He looks at his legs, his arms, his stomachs, and thinks to himself that he’s a blank canvas. His mind goes into overdrive, he can’t think. He grabs an eyeliner from the counter, one that is generally used only for gigs, and draws a smiley face onto his knee. If nothing happens now, Hyungu can finally get the closure he deserves.

He puts his clothes back on and takes another look at his face. If nothing else, he had a face that Yonghoon adored. The older would press kisses against his eyelids, his nose, his cheeks, his lips. Every touch felt like magic to Hyungu, and he didn’t want anyone else. He couldn’t wait until he could have his proof, his closure, and then he could love Yonghoon without any hesitation or worry. It’s what they both deserved. He didn’t know what he was going to do if he found that someone did respond.

He walks back out towards the couch and looks at Yonghoon from a distance. Hyungu didn’t know how he could get so lucky to have stumbled into the elder’s life. Moving forward, Hyungu is determined to wake the other up so they can go to sleep in a bed. As he gets close enough to make out every feature on the sleeping body, he finds that his breath has left his body, his lungs feel like lead. He feels feverous, and it’s not from the sweltering summer heat. He sits down next to the couch, and tries not to cry.

There, on Yonghoon’s knee, is a clumsily drawn smiley face. Hyungu traces the lines and finds that they do not smudge. Yonghoon didn’t just have the same idea that he did, this was a soulmate mark. Hyungu feels like he’s going to hyperventilate, feels like he could fall dead on the floor right there. He leans forward and presses a kiss on the knee, wants to bask in the reverence of those simple lines adorning Yonghoon’s skin.

Yonghoon wakes up with the touch. He’s groggy and confused, but sits up to run his hand through Hyungu’s hair. Hyungu leans into the touch, but can feel tears starting to spill from his eyes. Yonghoon leans forward, using both his hands to wipe away Hyungu’s tears, confused. Wordless, Hyungu runs a finger over Yonghoon’s knee once more, and the older finally looks down, finally notices the lines decorating his skin. He stammers, shocked, disordered, trying to explain to Hyungu that he doesn’t know where that came from. Yonghoon rubs at the mark, trying to remove it.

Gently, silently, Hyungu takes Yonghoon’s hand, trying to stop him from rubbing the skin raw. Yonghoon stares at Hyungu. Slowly, Hyungu raises his pant leg until his knee is visible. Yonghoon’s eyes widen at the smiley face hastily drawn onto the pale skin of Hyungu’s knee. The older stutters out the younger’s name, a question. Hyungu moves his hand, swiping over the marks, smudging them. The smudges mirror on Yonghoon’s knee.

Swiftly, quietly, Yonghoon stands up. Hyungu watches him in alarm, standing up as well as the older grabs a pen from the kitchen. Hurrying back, Yonghoon presses a revering kiss to Hyungu’s brow, slowly reaching down to pull the younger’s shirt over his head. Pen in his right hand, Yonghoon writes out the words “I love you” I love you onto his left arm. Hyungu marvels as the words appear on him, raising goosebumps in their wake. Yonghoon chokes on tears, drawing a heart over Hyungu’s, the younger watching as one appears on the elder’s chest.

Hyungu allows himself to be drawn into Yonghoon’s arms, allowing his tears to dry on Yonghoon’s skin. He feels the top of his head moisten, from where Yonghoon’s tears fall. There’s so much to discuss, but for now they just hold each other, gently swaying. Hyungu wants to rip the rest of his clothes off, present himself bare to Yonghoon; now he can, now there’s nothing to fear. They walk, arms engulfing one another, until they hit the end of Yonghoon’s bed, and fall. They cry and hold each other and cry. Yonghoon moves his hands to brush against the skin of Hyungu’s arms, his stomach, and Hyungu lets him. They fall asleep clinging to each other, Hyungu’s hands in Yonghoon’s hair, the elder’s hands rubbing the younger’s back.

They wake up with the sun, newly aware of one another. There are questions asked between kisses, answers given when they part. An understanding that Hyungu never noticed colours on his body due to his sleeves, due to Yonghoon’s quickness to shower. Yonghoon never noticed anything on his body because Hyungu refused to mark himself. Yonghoon thought that his soulmate died when the last of Hyungu’s kendo bruises faded. It feels incredibly intimate, feels perfect, knowing that they chose each other, not caring if they were soulmates.

There’s still drawn on hearts from their chests from the night before, slightly smudged. Hyungu traces the lines with his fingers, slowly, carefully. He presses a kiss within its bounds. Yonghoon holds him impossibly close, pressing kisses into his hair. Hyungu sighs, and let’s his breath hit Yonghoon’s skin.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed reading this!
> 
> I could have ended it when they decide to love each other regardless of soulmates but I thought of the smiley face thing first so whatever it's now TOO MUCH but you get what you get


End file.
